Five Reasons To Go (The Risky Hearts Duet Book 2) Read online

My fists tightened. “You’re the only person I’ve ever been with. How much more certain can I be?”

  “It was one time!”

  “That’s all it takes!” I shouted back.

  Trickling waves of shock slowly morphed into dismay across his face. He fell into his chair, hands plunging and yanking his hair. “Who did you tell?”

  He was worried I’d told someone that he had gotten me pregnant. My stomach sloshed. “No one.”

  “Your dad?”

  “No.”

  “Good. He’d kill me if he found out.” He glanced over at my suitcase. “He kicked you out?”

  “Yes. I can only go back if I tell them who the father is.”

  “Fuck.”

  Exactly, I thought bitterly. Age rattled my bones, the graying seconds ticking past with sage whispers.

  “Are you… going to keep it?” Insecurity leaked through the bitter edges of his tone.

  The roles had been reversed. He looked like the child now. The inexperienced one. The one who sought the answers.

  “It?”

  He winced.

  I stood, picking up my suitcase. My body was one giant bruise, like it had been hit by a car. “I was a fool for coming here,” I said, heading for the door. My heart dragging its feet.

  “Where will you go?”

  I shook from head to toe. The truth was I had no idea. I had friends I was sure would take me in until I figured things out. I’d been saving every penny I’d earned from the ice cream shop I worked at. I could drop out of school. Work full time. Find a place to stay. I’d make it work. I had to.

  “I’ll figure it out,” I muttered before hurrying through the door.

  I made it one block before the sound of my name halted my exit.

  Hank ran toward me. “Stay with me.” He stopped in front of me, preventing me from taking another step. “It isn’t right. I know that. But it’s my baby, too, and I can’t let you go not knowing what will become of it.”

  “It,” I said again. My entire world had tipped over, and there I stood before him, clueless and scared.

  “What will become of the baby,” he corrected.

  “How romantic.” Venom spewed from my lips. “Thanks, but I think I can manage on my own.”

  He sucked his teeth, his body wavering. “They can’t find out, Jess. They’ll put me in jail. You know that.”

  “I already told you I didn’t tell them. Besides, I’ll be eighteen soon enough.”

  He grabbed my elbows, his pupils dilating. “You won’t make it two seconds out there alone. You’ll have to go home, and then you’ll have to…”

  I shook my head while heat stabbed behind my eyes.

  “Please, Jess. Stay with me. You won’t… you won’t have to pay for anything, okay? Just… stay… for now.”

  The world blurred as my thoughts raced against each other. I was a pity case. A means to an end. His roof was the sock stuffed in my mouth. And by keeping him safe, I was leaving my family behind.

  I shouldn’t have agreed, but a small part of me—that naïve girl—was still in love with him. Still clung to the hope we could be a family.

  When I turned eighteen, we were married at the courthouse. I didn’t tell my parents. I swore to Hank to keep it from them until after the baby was born in hopes she’d soften the blow. He promised to love me. To be faithful. To be a good father. I promised to be devoted. To love him with all my heart. And I think I believed we could be happy.

  But I soon learned Hank was incapable of keeping promises.

  Time rushed forward, and his distance from me grew long. Shortly after the wedding, he came home drunk with a woman on his hip. Told me I could leave if I didn’t like it.

  I didn’t… but I also didn’t want to crawl back to my parents. To hear the words I told you so I knew my mother chewed on. Day by day, one drunk insult to the next, the dream I’d created for us fizzled into muck.

  I kept to myself as he went to work, and I went to school. Did my best to lay low and get through senior year without being noticed. I didn’t go to prom, and I chose not to walk the stage during graduation.

  It was better that way.

  I didn’t mind growing up quickly. Over time, we sort of settled around each other. I lived in his spare room. Stayed in it when he brought his girlfriends over. When I’d hear them late at night, or when I’d see him blowing money on drugs, I didn’t cry. I stopped wishing for a happy little loving family with him. Learned just how rare and fleeting true love was.

  It was a tale meant for bedtime. A silly hope whispered into the hearts of little girls.

  It was never meant for me.

  My water broke at nearly midnight, on a Saturday in spring. The pains started dull and tight at the base of my belly. Building into serrated bolts of lightning that nearly crippled me.

  I’d read every book I could get my hands on at the local library about pregnancy and labor. Took all the advice and pamphlets home my doctor had provided me with. I knew how to time my contractions. What to expect when my water broke.

  What I didn’t prepare for was being alone.

  I called every bar Hank went to, hoping he’d be at one. Most who answered barely heard me over the raucous in the background. The last place I called, the bartender who answered said Hank had gone home with some brunette hours ago.

  The phone fell from my hand when another contraction ripped through me.

  When they became too close and I couldn’t breathe, I called my mom. One hand gripping the receiver, the other holding my stomach. Sweat plastered my hair to the sides of my face and coursed down my neck.

  She answered on the third ring, while I was in the middle of another intense contraction. I screamed in pain, begging for her to help me as I collapsed onto the ground.

  “Who is he?” Her words, terse and unfeeling, slithered through the receiver.

  “Mom, please!”

  Rotten, cold silence pushed through her end.

  I cradled my stomach, breathing through the backend of a contraction. “Mom?”

  “His name, Jessica.”

  The room blurred in front of me. My eyes, throat, and nose smoldered. “Mom, I… can’t…”

  She hung up when another contraction sliced at my spine.

  Somehow, I managed to call nine-one-one.

  By the time they arrived, I was already pushing.

  Ciana was born in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital. When the paramedic placed her in my arms, all the hurt, fear, and stress evaporated with her small cry. Her tiny fingers pressed against my face. It was instant—the deep, unwavering love that consumed me. The pledge my heart made to her.

  “I will always be there for you,” I whispered against her cheek as weary tears streamed down the sides of my face. The paramedics did their best to keep us comfortable while fighting through traffic. “You will never have to worry. Never be alone. I will protect you, Ciana Maria. With all my heart.”

  Chapter 1

  Jack

  “Can I get a bourbon and Coke?” I asked the bartender who had sidled up to the bar.

  “Same for me,” a soft, feminine voice crooned. I turned, watching the owner of those words shimmy out of her jacket before taking a wooden stool beside me. Glancing over, she smiled. One of those fleeting, inane smiles, the ones meant for a stranger.

  I offered the same detached smile, and then turned my attention back to the screen mounted on the wall where the game flashed across the screen. I was in a new bar on the other side of town, with the sole intent to drink away the shitty day I’d had.

  I was up for a promotion, but I had to go against another hotshot broker who wanted the same position. For months, I had worked on a deal that would bring large dollar signs to the firm, only to discover my competition might secure the same client.

  It would come down to who could kiss ass better, and ass kissing was the last thing on earth I wanted to do. It was degrading. A weaker man’s move.

  “You
from around here?” The woman’s words pricked through my thoughts, only to be drowned within the mixture of voices and clinking glasses.

  I was sure she wasn’t talking to me. And if she was… I wasn’t in the mood.

  Tossing a nut into my mouth, I winced at the screen when the wrong play was made. “Damn it.”

  With his sleeves rolled up, the bartender slid two napkins toward us. Liquor sloshed over the rim when he set our drinks down before turning back to the large stack of highball glasses towering in the sink.

  My hand already reached for the sweating glass. It clanged against my teeth, the oaky scent of whiskey dimmed by the nutty Coke.

  I savored with slow sips. Welcomed the soft burn hitting the bottom of my empty stomach. All day I waited for this. To scorch through the shitstorm I walked into earlier that morning in the office.

  A slow sliver of heat built against my cheek, raising the hair on the back of my neck. With a sideways glance, her eyes came into view, set intently on me. A small smile brewed over the rim of her glass she held just a breath away from her face.

  My head tilted fully in her direction, a question forming in my brows.

  “I know… it’s hard to hear with all the rowdy regulars hooting and hollering.” Laughter sputtered easily from her, the sound light and airy. “I asked if you were from around here?” The space between her words drew out, ensuring I heard her this time. Confidence projected from the easy twist to her lips. From the way she held herself against the bar, as if she belonged there.

  “Born and raised.” I lifted the glass in a half-hearted salute, determined to focus solely on the game. I had half a mind to down the drink and order another, but the night was young, and I wanted to enjoy every last drop.

  “I thought so.” Her almond eyes grazed over me, unabashed in the way they played over the lines of my body. “You have that Brooklyn vibe to you.”

  A strange, long-forgotten heat lit within my blood. Toyed at the base of my skull, whispering memories of flirtatious words and subtle touches. I decided I liked how she looked at me. Seeing past the clothes. Past the frown. Pulling what she wanted from me—my attention. I’d fancy her. Get a few nice smiles tossed my way to help dampen the shitty day I had.

  Clearing my throat, I rubbed my eyebrow, and tried to keep my words even. “And what vibe would that be?”

  Her grin was fierce and bright. Sharp, like an arrow, stabbing through my shell. She pointed at the jersey I wore. “Team pride?” Pulling a hat from her purse, she placed it on her head, and yanked her ponytail through the back. “Same. Although, I think you’re going down tonight.”

  I smirked. “That so?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, I’ve got twenty bucks that says you’re wrong about that.”

  She paused, head tilted slightly to the side. Slowly, her grin turned curious, stretching into a composed line. With her hand stuck out, she said, “You’re on. I’m Jessica.”

  I eyed her hand for a moment, but then took it. “Jack.”

  “Jack.” Within seconds, laughter tickled the space between us. Her green eyes sparkled when she did, a warm, mossy color. Framed in thick lashes that fanned out like a raven’s feathers.

  It was wrong to notice, but she had a pretty laugh. Soft. Fluttery. It drew me to her. Made me want to say something else just to elicit the bright sound.

  Then, her voice turned brittle, almost a broken whisper. “Wake up.”

  I chuckled. What was with this chick? “Huh?”

  Grabbing my hand, she pulled it close to her heart. My pulse tripled in response from her touch. The warmth of her skin. The ease in which she so carelessly reached for me… as if we had been longtime friends.

  “Jack, wake up. Jack?” She dropped my hand with that same fluttery laugh. “Titanic? No?” When I didn’t respond, her laughter retreated, lips going slack. “The movie? You had to have seen it?”

  My mind scrambled to catch up. “Oh.” I reached for my drink, hiding behind the rim. “Shit... how did I not put that together?”

  She waved me off. “You’re a guy. I wouldn’t expect you to.” She took a sip from her drink, then set it down, turning her attention to the game.

  I stole small glimpses of her. A dangerous spark struck deep in my belly that, if fed, would surely ignite. Her hair was the color of creamed butter, soft and light, curtained around her shoulders. A slender frame swathed in modest clothing. Porcelain skin. A smattering of freckles across her cheeks. She didn’t scream for attention, but that was all I found myself giving her.

  She was a curious thing. Different. Dangerous.

  I glanced at her ring finger, which held a small gold band. Abject relief doused the building interest when my gaze rejoined the gold band wrapped around my finger. Someone pushed in beside me, his shoulder grazing mine as he hailed the bartender.

  Fridays were the catalyst to a drunken weekend at any bar, but this bar seemed to be a hot commodity. Round high tops crammed with bodies swapping bets on who would win. Others pushing toward the bar, searching for an in.

  After polishing off my drink, I set it down. Suppressed a small laugh at how ridiculous I’d been. Finding a woman attractive was one thing, but being intrigued by her… that could easily turn into something unhealthy.

  And I wasn’t in the market for that.

  Peering past her, I caught wind of an old man clutching a beer beside her. With gray whiskers grazing the bar top’s edge, I doubted he could be her husband. But who would leave their wife alone at a bar like this? My wife would rather be trapped at work than be caught here.

  “Are you here alone?” My voice was raised, competing with the others around us.

  Her attention never left the screen when she answered. “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.”

  She didn’t miss a beat, eyes drifting sidelong to my ring finger. “But not really alone.”

  I lifted my hand, thumb grazing the band, and then swirled it around my finger. “No. Not really.” Talking about spouses was a safe subject. One I didn’t mind toeing into. “Eight years,” I added. “You?”

  Her lips drooped a little at the sides, finger tracing circles along the top of her glass. “Nearly twelve.”

  Though I barely knew her, I didn’t miss the notes curbed with melancholy in her voice. Her earlier lightheartedness took a backseat to the shift in subject. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to keep her talking. To bring back that smile, if only once more.

  “Twelve years, huh?” I cleared my throat. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look too young to be married for that long.”

  When her gaze met mine, her mouth parted, a confession seeming to teeter on the edge of her tongue, but then someone knocked into her. She jerked back when amber liquid sloshed onto her hand, her cup tipping on its side.

  Quickly, she reached for napkins. “Shit!”

  Grabbing a few the passing bartender handed me, I dabbed at the mess. Kept an eye on the guy behind her, waiting for him to apologize, but his back remained turned to her. Oblivious to what he’d caused.

  He was entranced in conversation with the men perched around the high-top. Hoots of laughter whirled around them, raising over the noise of the bar.

  Standing abruptly, I moved to place a hand on his shoulder. “Hey.”

  The guy spun. He had to be in his early twenties, eyes glazed, and face bloated from alcohol. His lids blinked sluggishly. A syrupy grin taped to his mouth that had my own turning upward.

  A small chuckle bubbled up. “You knocked into her, man. You should apologize and buy her another of the drink you caused her to spill.” I hitched a thumb in Jessica’s direction.

  His languid blinks fought to take in what was happening. Twice his gaze shifted between me and Jessica, before a light seemed to form over his head. He pressed a hand to his chest, wavering on his feet. “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, every word tripping over itself. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  She patted his arm. “It�
��s fine. Really.”

  The guy shifted when her voice hit him. He staggered forward, leaning closer to her face. Licked his lips, and then twisted his mouth into what I thought was supposed to be a smoldering smile. “I’m Brian. You are?”

  She held her hand up. “Married.”

  Brian swayed back, squinting at her ring finger. “Shame,” he muttered before turning back to his table.

  When she turned back around, I flagged the waiter. “I can get you another,” I offered, desperate for a fresh one myself.

  “Jack, it’s fine.” Genuine laughter filled her words, breathing calmness into the situation. “Honest.”

  “Same thing?” the bartender asked, swirling a damp cloth where the drink had spilled.

  I dipped my head in consent. “Please.”

  We watched as bottles spun in the waiter’s hand. The clang of glass and ice piercing through the noise. When he was finished, he slid a drink toward her. Tipped his chin in Brian’s direction. “On the house.”

  I tried to fasten my focus on the game, realizing I was making an ass of myself. I had no business getting to know her any further. Especially since I was attracted to her.

  “I was eighteen,” she said after a few beats. “When I married, I mean. Already had baby number one. My son was born a few years after.”

  Oh.

  She swiveled toward me. “Do you have kids?”

  I shook my head. “Timing hasn’t been right.”

  “When is it ever?”

  She had me there. Kids were never something I thought about. Once, my wife Corinne brought the idea of them up, but I quickly shied away from it. With my schedule, it wouldn’t be fair to them. Besides, I doubted I’d ever be good at parenting. When I was around my friend’s kids, they always scared me. Being responsible for another human. Knowing every action I made would affect them.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  Jessica’s lips pursed around the straw in her drink slowly, carefully, in such a way that my blood warmed. They were bowlike and generous, a perfect shade of pink. An uncomfortable confusion rattled in my stomach. I didn’t want to be, but I was drawn to her. My thoughts pushed and pulled with indecision, like taffy being strung. Stay. Go. Stay Go. Stretching thinner and thinner until both thoughts became one.